Famously Fake Read Online Sarah J. Brooks

Categories Genre: Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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“They know you here,” Leila says, no hint of emotion in her voice.

“Yeah, and my agent hates it. He also hates that I went public with you.”

“But it’s all …”

I cover her mouth before she says ‘fake.’ “Only we know that, remember? And this is about trying to get my agent off my back, so he definitely can’t know.”

“Right, I forgot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Let’s get a drink, shall we?”

She nods and tells me she’ll take whatever I’m having. I order two Grateful Deads, and we find a standing table off the side of the main dance floor. Some famous DJ is playing music I don’t recognize, and plenty of sweaty bodies are already dancing, even though it’s still early in the night.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and it’s a text from Randy with a photo of Leila and me outside the club. His message says he’s somewhat buying that we’re together, and I show it to my fake girlfriend. “See, it’s working!”

She smiles, though it looks forced. “I’m glad to hear it.”

We sip our drinks and chat over the loud music, though I don’t think either of us can really hear the other. We’re not looking much like a couple in here, and I know photographers are lurking. The club turns the other cheek and pretends they don’t notice, but it’s clear they want the publicity, so they let the papzz in. I don’t necessarily mind it, but if I’m going to convince the world I’m dating Leila, we can’t be standing across from each other looking like strangers.

I finish my drink, and Leila still has half of hers. “Do you want another?”

She nods. “Sure. I’ll be finished with this when you get back.”

A good boyfriend would get her a drink, so maybe they’ll catch that vibe. I push to the front of the bar and order us another round, getting back to Leila within a few minutes. Like she promised, her drink is now empty.

I stand closer to her this time as we drink our drinks and admire the dance floor. “We should get out there,” I suggest. “Show them our moves.”

Leila shakes her head. “Not a chance. I don’t dance, but you can go out there if you’d like.”

“I’d rather we go together.”

“I’ll be right here, watching you like a good girlfriend. I’ll keep my puppy dog love eyes on, I promise.”

I roll my eyes, but I do love dancing, so I bring my drink with me and head out to a spot not far from where she’s standing.

While my body moves to the beat, I keep my eyes on Leila. She looks absolutely miserable. She tries to keep a smile on her face, but whenever someone bumps into her, she cringes and jumps. She did mention she hates clubs, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.

I turn around, shaking my ass a little, hoping to make her laugh, but when I turn back, I find Leila has a guy I don’t recognize leaning close, talking to her. She’s backing away, but the guy isn’t listening. He keeps getting closer and closer until she’s pressed against the wall, her eyes in a panic. Jealousy erupts in my chest. This is my girl, and this guy should be nowhere near her.

This is how I get into fights.

I push through the crowd and get between Leila and this guy who has no business talking to her. “Please leave my girlfriend alone,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist.

I expect the dick to try and fight me, but he throws up his arms, mumbles something about it not being worth it, and walks away.

“I’m sorry about that,” I tell Leila. “Come dance with me. It’ll keep the creeps away.”

“Yeah, okay,” she says, still looking hesitant.

I pull her out onto my spot on the dancefloor, somewhat removed from other people, and lock my hands on her hips as we sway to the music.

I don’t know if it’s the music or the alcohol, but Leila loosens up enough to throw her hands in the air and shake her hips as the beat blasts behind us. The jealousy from earlier dissipates because Leila is all mine right now. I don’t care if we’re in a crowded club; it’s just the two of us dancing alone.

A surge from the crowd pushes Leila against me, and she looks up into my eyes. Something passes between us, like that first moment when we touched by the bushes in the park. I start to lean down, my lips parting and my eyes closing. I don’t know what is washing over me, but if I don’t kiss Leila right now, I’ll lose my mind.

Instead of melting into it, Leila pushes back. “Just friends, remember. I need to use the bathroom.”

After the way that guy was getting handsy, I’m not about to let Leila go to the bathroom alone, so I accompany her, standing outside until she’s done. We grab another round of drinks and go back to dancing, but Leila doesn’t let me get that close again, no matter how hard I try.


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